The short epilogue of Déagol
by Aderin Iris
Summary: Déagol is revived after his fight with Sméagol by good old Tom Bombadil. Tom naturally expects something for his trouble.


"_Hey derry dol, awake now, halfling!  
See the woods and hear the laughing!  
With a ho and a hey and a rom-pom-pom,  
Ignore the light and listen to Tom!_"

Déagol slowly opened his eyes. He felt absolutely terrible. He wished the odd man jigging at the side of the clearing would bugger off. And where was Sméagol? He sat up and realised he was soaking wet.

"Ah! He moves!" the odd man noted.

"What are you talking about?" Déagol asked him wearily. His head was killing him.

"Well, a minute ago you were dead," the man explained. "But I know the songs for that...you'll be all right, yes, you will!"

Déagol stared at him. "What? Who are you?"

"Why, I'm Tom!   
_Hey dol! Merry dol! Ring a ding dillo!  
Ring a dong! Hope along! Fal lal the willow!  
Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!_"

That explained it. He was completely insane.

"Oh yes...well, that's great," Déagol assured him. "You haven't seen another hobbit around here, have you?"

Tom shook his head.

Where was Sméagol? And there was something else missing – Déagol couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he felt a void within him. He craved something but he didn't know what.

"I need..." he started, but Tom interrupted him.

"You need to rest! Not easy, dying. Takes a lot out of you," he said. "You shall come home with me – there's plenty to eat, and space to lay your head!  
_A table spread with bread and hone,  
Hey derry! Ho derry! The jam is plummy!  
The softest sheets and the plumpest pillow  
At the house of good Tom Bombadillo!_"

Déagol was too exhausted to argue. He allowed himself to be led to a house nestled amongst the trees. He'd only stay for a short time, after all.

He noticed Tom tense as he opened the door, and then relax suddenly.

"Thank the oaks, Goldberry's out," he murmured.

"What?" Déagol asked, but he was only answered with a laugh and twirl.

"Would you like some ham, eh?" Tom asked him as they sat at the long table that dominated the room.

"No, I'm not hungry," Déagol said. "I don't want food..."

"Ah," Tom said, a twinkle in his eye, "but there is something you want?"

"Yes," Déagol replied. "But..."

"You young lads," Tom chuckled. "Well, Tom will do what he can! Hey!"

"Right. That's great," Déagol said, ignoring the frenzied jig that Tom was doing. "Could I possibly just...go to bed?"

"You and I, we think alike!" Tom cried. "Come, come, come with me! Ding a dol derry!"

They moved into a cosy little bedroom. The bed looked terribly inviting to Déagol.

"That's super," he smiled.

"Yes," said Tom. "That's my bed, yes!"

"Oh," said Déagol. "Where should I...?"

"Ah, it's your bed too!" Tom grinned.

Déagol stared at him. "I'm not sure I understand."

Tom smiled and grabbed him, pulling him into a deep kiss. Déagol emerged spluttering.

"No! No, no, no! Look, I have a boyfriend!" he cried.

Tom smiled again.

"_Hey fal lal, are you thinking clearly?  
Tom is one you think of dearly!  
With a toodle and an oodle – I don't mean to be crass,  
But you want a piece of Tom's fine ass!_"

It was a most peculiar feeling. It suddenly dawned on Déagol how absolutely stunning Tom was. He'd never wanted to shag someone so badly.

"What am I saying?" Déagol cried. "I want you, now!"

And they fell upon each other, hands grabbing, clothes flying, mouths meeting. It wasn't long before Déagol was thrusting into Tom, who was yelling, "Hey! Derry! Ring a dillo!" (which was bloody annoying actually).

"I'm coming...I'm coming..." Déagol panted.

"I'm home!" a voice tinkled from the other room.

Tom's eyes bulged a little. "Crap! Goldberry! You have to go!"

He pushed Déagol off him and bundled him out of a window.

Déagol looked around him. He was in the middle of a wood and it was getting dark. He had no clothes on and he didn't know the way home. Things were not looking good. And then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

Praying that it wasn't a wolf, he turned to face it. 

"Sméagol!" he cried thankfully. "Thank goodness I've found you! Oh, never leave me again!"

Sméagol looked at him with horror.

"It's mine! My precious! You can't have it!" he shrieked. And with that, he finished off poor Déagol with a well placed right hook. Unfortunately, Tom was too busy with Goldberry to resuscitate him this time.

THE END.


End file.
